by Demi-X
Jack opened the door and entered the room. He smiled at the sight of
Victor's back; admiring his own handiwork that he had left behind. The once
pristine canvass of his captives broad back was now covered in bruises ranging
in color from deep purple to almost black. The beating had caused his flesh to
split wide open in about 10 places. A few of those welts had scabbed over but
others were still weeping slightly. The rest of the weals, about another 20 in
total, were raised and colored a deep, angry red. Dried blood had stuck to all
of the cuts, staining the flesh like macabre tear drops.
Jack could just make out the gash that the belt buckle had left behind on
Victor's right cheek bone; the accompanying black eye spreading in size down
his face. In Jack's sick and twisted vision, Victor was just beautiful and
just as desirable as he was when he had first been taken.
On the tray that he was holding was the next dosage of drugs along with a
few other goodies. Jack elbowed the door shut behind himself, but did not take
the time to lock it.
He was already getting hard with just the sight of the shackled man and
Jack rubbed at his crotch lewdly and licked his dry lips. The madman went over
to the small bed and knelt behind Victor. He ran a calloused hand over
Victor's bare shoulder and down his arm, saying huskily, "Wake up Victor, I
have a special treat in mind and it's for my pleasure only."
Oh, I just bet you do... Jack
Victor's eyes popped open. The moment he had been waiting for had
arrived. All Victor had needed was for Jack to get close enough to him so that
he would be able to use the metal knuckles that he had wrapped around his left
fist.
Suddenly, Victor whirled around leading with his left fist, sitting up as
he did so while balancing on his right hand. Jack was taken completely by
surprise as Victor's left fist connected with Jack's right eye. Victor felt
the orbital bone crunch under his knuckles.
Jack roared with the pain of having his cheek bone broken. Furious, he
clutched at his damaged eye as he leapt after Victor who was making a mad dash
for the door.
Victor yanked open the door, but he could see nothing on the other side
except dark nothingness. He was about to step out of the room and into the
unknown when Jack grabbed him around his waist with two strong arms and pulled
him down.
As Victor fell, he hit his forehead on the metal door knob, splitting a
large cut on his forehead where the roots of his hair met skin. Stunned by the
force of the blow, Victor somehow managed to work his way up to his hands and
knees. With his head hanging forward, and unaware that he was even cut, Victor
watched dazed, as his own blood which was running from the gash, formed a large
pool on the cement floor.
Staring spellbound into the puddle of crimson, Victor fought to reclaim his
senses.
Seething with rage, Jack planted his foot firmly at the small of Victor's
already abused back and pushed, using his thick thigh muscle to force the man
back down to his stomach.
Victor landed in an ungainly heap, his chin hit the hard cement floor and
his teeth bit into and cut his tongue deeply.
It was at that point that Jack sank down and straddled Victor's waist.
Grabbing him on either side of his hips, he flipped him over so that the agent
was face up.
Jack had planned on having sex with Victor, torturing him for a bit and
then killing him. But now he would have to forgo the sex and pain part of the
plan and jump right ahead to the killing part instead. Still atop of Victor,
Jack wrapped his hands around the trapped man's throat and began to choke the
agent while simultaneously banging his head against the hard cement floor.
Victor clawed at Jack's hands, frantically trying to break the grip of
death that held him down. Meanwhile, Jack continued to hit Victor's head again
and again against the floor. And blood, from the cut on his forehead, ran
into Victor's eyes impairing his already hazy vision even further. Victor
started seeing stars busting in front of his eyes and he had become
light-headed.
Instinctually, Victor knew that if he didn't do something right now to break
free of the hold Jack had on him, he would die.
So, in a last desperate attempt to save his own life, Victor stopped
fighting with Jack's hands and flung out his right arm. The tips of his
fingers touched the edge of the metal surgical tray and he immediately fought
for purchase of it. When his fingers finally had a hold of it, he pulled the
tray towards himself.
Dear God, he's going to kill me. Think Vic! THINK!
Victor gasped, all of his breath had left him now. His hand flew over the
items on the tray and in a last ditch effort, he snatched up what he thought
was perhaps a butter knife and plunged it, with all of might, between Jack's
ribs. Luckily for Victor, the butter knife turned out to be a surgical
scalpel and luckier still that the slim knife had slid between two ribs easily;
slicing through the flesh like it was warm butter.
The scalpel sank directly into Jack's beating heart, killing the man
instantly.
Jack's grip released automatically as his hands flew to the razor-sharp
scalpel sticking out from his rib cage. The look in his eyes was one of shock
and disbelief as he pulled the small knife out. He looked at the killing tool
in his hand and then back to Victor, who was still laying below him fighting
for oxygen; too disoriented to do or say anything else. Jack blinked once then
fell forward, landing directly on top of Victor, his fist still clenched around
the operating room instrument.
Victor was barely aware that he had actually prevented Jack from killing
him. And before he was able to fully comprehend that he was still alive,
Jack's limp body had fallen forward. The dead man's head smashing directly
onto Victor's.
The dead weight on top of him was just too much for Victor to take. He was
oxygen starved and concussed as well as being in a weakened state from the
loss of blood. The nasty cut across his forehead was still running freely.
Unable to withstand the impact when Jack's head knocked his and in the
instant after he had triumphed and killed his captor, Victor lost total
consciousness.
His world suddenly went from seeing stars to complete blackness.
Mulder and Mac drove in complete silence to their destination. Fox
Mulder, Mac soon discovered, was not a great conversationalist.
No wonder he and Victor are into each other.
Mac had tried several times to converse with the FBI agent, but all he got in
reply to his questions were monosyllabic answers or grunts. Finally Mac gave
up trying. Victor and Mulder were a perfect set of bookends in the young
agents opinion.
Mulder had no patience for idle chitchat. He thought that Mac was an ok
guy, though way more talkative than he preferred. He wasn't able to
concentrate on what Mac was saying to him; he was so focused in on Victor right
now. More specifically, on what was happening to Victor.
Vic... WHAT MUST he be going through?!
Mulder had visions of Victor being raped and tortured running around his
brain.
It's my fault
Mulder couldn't help but feel that if he had done a more thorough job on the
profile the first time around, when he had originally had the case, then this
wouldn't have happened. He cleared his throat and said quietly to Mac who was
now, just driving in a contemplative silence.
"Mac, you've known Victor along time. How is he in crisis situations?
How much stuh... " Mulder faltered slightly. He swallowed deeply and
continued, his eyes remaining straight ahead as if he was talking to the road
in front of them. "...stuff can he take?"
Mac glanced sideways at the Agent. He could see worry and self-doubt
written all over the man's face; despite the fact that he could only see him
from the side. There were small lines of concern fanning out from the corner
of the older man's left eye. Mulder was genuinely scared for Victor.
We'll find him, I know it
"Vic can look after himself. We've been trained to deal with hostage
situations. How to escape them; stuff like that, you know" Mac had wanted to
reassure Mulder and himself that Victor would be ok, but there was no real way
of knowing that.
He could be dead already. Stop it. You don't know that.
"Yeah," Mulder replied morosely, "But of those situations how many of them
taught you how to deal with a psychopathic sexual predator?" Mulder answered
his own question, "None I bet. You were no doubt trained to deal with
terrorists and mobsters..."
Mac interrupted Mulder's speech of doom by saying, "This isn't helping you
know. You were called here to give an expert opinion to help locate MY
Missing Partner. Now are you going to do that or are you going to plan his
funeral before we even know what's happened to him?" Mac had emphasized 'My
Missing Partner' and spoke more harshly than he had intended to. He had been
slightly jealous when Mulder showed up, but from what he had seen so far, The
Director could have saved some money and left Mulder at home instead. Mac was
not however, unsympathetic to how the FBI agent felt. If there had been any
doubt before, there was none now; it was obvious that Victor and Mulder had
been lovers and still were, in a way. Distance had not broken the emotional
bond between them.
Well I care too, god dammit! Mac drove on, wondering if the Great
One had anymore to add.
Mulder put his thoughts in order and turned in the car seat to face Mac
as the younger man drove. He picked up the file on Jack and began to leaf
through it.
"Well, judging by what we know about Jack, I would say that we are heading
in the right direction."
Curious, Mac answered with a simple, "Yeah, why?"
"Well when I left the Profiling Dept., some fellow employees who worked
the in the department were just starting to discover ways to profile a serial
killer by the location of the abduction and murder scenes as well as studying
the sites where the victims were dumped, that is if they were dumped. They
took in all the relevant and seemingly irrelevant surroundings and fed them
into the computer. The method of profiling a serial killer by studying his
environment is being improved upon every day. Jack, you see, needs an area big
enough to seek out the specific type of man that he wants. That's why he uses
the parks located in big cities. In good weather like this they are full of
potential victims just ripe for the picking. He zeros in on his next target
and watches him. Logically speaking the targeted man should live fairly close
to whatever park he frequents, right? It doesn't make sense to travel out of
your way. Unless of course you're going to a specific park for an activity
that is unattainable in the ones close to home. Am I making sense?" Mulder
asked of Mac.
"Yep, go on" Mac was intrigued with what Mulder was telling him. He had
never put that much thought into catching the bad guy before. The Director
would always just tell him where to go and he'd go, with guns blazing.
"Ok, so Jack spots Victor in the park one day, a totally random sighting
probably. Picks him out as a perfect match for the type of games he likes to
play but he's not alone or maybe he's in a crowd, whatever. No problem, he
simply follows Victor around. Sees that he lives nearby, watches him closely
and then bides his time until he can catch him alone and unaware. Ok, so he
manages to snatch Victor somehow, not even realizing that the man he has taken
is a resourceful Government Agent." Mulder's voice had some hope in it now.
"He won't be driving because it's too much of a hassle. He has to have Victor
stashed somewhere near his hunting grounds right?" Mulder asked the question,
not really seeking a answer, but in his peripheral vision he saw Mac nod in
agreement.
The other man was listening in rapt silence. "But wherever it is it has to
be... " Mulder held up a finger for each one of his points made, ... "One.
Close enough to carry a 185 lb man; Two, secluded enough that no one, even if
they're looking will find him; and Three... Soundproof enough to muffle the
screams of a man being tortured." The 3rd shook both men deeply. "Is there
any place like that in the neighborhood where we're looking?"
Mac had been totally absorbed by what Mulder was telling him. He thought
about the buildings and houses around the farthest edge of the park. For an
industrial area, it was still pretty heavily forested. And there was a small
rancher Mac recalled, that was tucked between two abandoned storage houses.
Just a good of place to start as any.
"Yeah, I think I know a house that might fit the bill." Mac looked at Mulder
when he said this, then he pressed his foot down on the gas pedal to accelerate
his BMW. He felt a hell of a lot more positive about a good outcome now than
he had 30 minutes ago. At least they had a place to start.
The agents parked their car about half a block up the street from the
location that Mac thought would be the most likely spot to start at.
In between two immense storage facilities that were no longer in use; a small
single story house was tucked away. The paint on the exterior was faded and
peeling and white Morning Glory had taken over the entire outside of the
building. Mac and Mulder exited the car at he same time, both men taking care
to shut their doors quietly. Neither one of them wanted to alert Jack (if he
was even there) to their presence. They drew their guns and Mac silently
motioned with his head towards the small vine covered dwelling. Mulder
followed Mac's gesture with his eyes and nodded in reply. Separating at the
car, each of them took a different route to the house. Mulder ran up the
street silently, ducking in behind large garbage bins and piles of refuse to
hide his presence. Mac, on the other side of the quiet street, did the same.
When they reached the edge of the property Mulder signaled that he would
go around back. Mac okayed and relayed that he would check out the front.
From where Mulder was standing he could just see the very top corner of
Victor's apartment building. The street they were standing on was on the outer
edge of the Southern side of the park, the area was heavily treed and hidden
away from prying eyes. The abandoned buildings all around ensured privacy.
Mac's right, this has to be the house.
This was a perfect hide-out to keep someone. The two men parted again, each
of them alert and holding their weapons in a ready to fire position.
Mulder crouched down low and quickly peeked around the corner. Nothing
there. He called on all of his training, peering around this and looking over
that. He did not want to be ambushed before he even entered the house. From
somewhere within the dwelling, Mulder could hear the thrum of a generator.
Mulder stood beside the door and held on to the knob, his heart pounding.
The area around the back yard showed signs of occupation-the grass was trampled
slightly and the Morning Glory had been cut away from the back door.
This must be where Jack is entering and exiting from.
Mulder heard a twig snap and he immediately froze; only his eyes moved,
sweeping them from side to side. The rush of adrenaline churned his insides
like a tidal whirlpool.
Mac turned the corner and was greeted by the muzzle of Mulder's 38. Mac
waved the gun away. Leaning in close to Mulder he whispered into his ear, "No
way to get in from the front. The door is nailed shut and so are the windows."
Mulder swept his head towards the back yard and whispered back, "Looks
like someone is coming and going from this way. Ready?"
Mac moved to the other side of the door across from Mulder, "Let's do it,"
he mouthed.
Mulder twisted the knob and opened the door while he squatted down low,
aiming his gun and looking at all angles through the door way. Mac did the
same, only he remained standing. The men entered the kitchen. Everything was
dusty and dirty, but there were dishes in the sink and food wrappers on the
counter. Someone had been here or was still here. Mulder opened up the old
fashioned refrigerator that no longer hummed with electricity. In it he found
several bottles of water sitting in a large pot of ice that was only half
melted.
Mac looked over Mulder's shoulder into the fridge and then whirled around
searching.
Someone WAS still here or why else the ice and water?
Mulder walked silently over to a wooden door that was closed. It had at
one time been painted white, but most of the paint had long since chipped away.
He grabbed the knob and started to open it very gently, wincing slightly when
it squeaked. Both men listened intently, but neither of them could hear sounds
of habitation. The door had a set of steep stairs hidden behind it that led to
some sort of a basement. Mulder pointed to himself and then the stairs,
indicating that he would check out downstairs. He pulled out a small palm-size
halogen flashlight from his overcoat pocket and turning it on, gun and light
together he descended the dark, narrow stairwell. Mac watched for a second
before going off on his own search of the rest of the main floor of the
seemingly deserted place.
When Mulder reached the bottom of the stairs, he swept the beam of his
flashlight all around, noting the grey cement walls. The silence in the
basement deafening him.
You wouldn't be able to hear a thing from the street with these walls.
Carefully, he searched for signs of life, surveying his surroundings and
memorizing them. An accurate knowledge of the area would come in handy in case
he had to make a run for it.
His powerful light caught a reflection of something metallic. While keeping
the beam of light on the object, he walked over and saw that there were several
surgical trays standing cluttered together in the corner. On top of one of the
trays there were medical instruments such as scalpels and tweezers.
What the hell?
On another tray Mulder saw packaged needles and rubber tubing mixed with
assorted drug related gear and on yet another tray he saw the most disturbing
items of all; handcuffs and a chain along with a leather ball gag.
Bondage paraphernalia?
The contents of the last tray alarmed Mulder Where's Victor? He has to be
here!
He left the trays and walked over to a table that resembled something you
would see in a operating room. Except that, the padded table had leg and arm
extensions, and on those extensions there were heavy leather restraints.
Was Victor strapped down to this table?
He shone the light up and down the table looking for...what? He didn't know.
Mulder's trained eyes spied several brown spots on the surface of the beige
colored padding ranging in size from a dime to approximately the diameter of a
soda can. Placing his flashlight down so that he could look closer at the
spots, he reached out with his left hand to touch them. Just as he suspected,
blood. Even though it was dry, any practiced agent could tell what it was,
Mulder had a sinking feeling that it was Victor's.
After not being to hear or see any signs that someone was still in the
basement and growing tired of the darkness, Mulder washed the walls with his
flashlight, looking for a switch or a fuse box. He found both so he walked
over to the switch and turned it on; only the basement seemed to be equipped
with lights.
Mulder expected to be bathed in brightness, but he was only greeted by a
single dim bulb hanging high over head of the empty table.
It'll do.
Mulder shut off his flashlight and took a closer look at his surroundings.
Stark and barren was what came to his mind first. Even with this little amount
of light he could see almost the whole basement. He looked up at the ceiling,
feeling reassured that he could still hear Mac creeping around upstairs.
Mulder scanned around, his eyes coming to rest on a small half door located
under the stairs.
Mulder's first thought was storage? then perfect for hiding!. Gun to
the ready, Mulder walked cat-like over to the little door.
Sinking to his haunches while with his back against the wall, he reached
out and flung open the door, sending the knob crashing into the opposite wall
of where he was crouched. A dull light washed out of the open door, pointing
his gun, Mulder turned quickly into the threshold and then stared, paralyzed by
what he saw...
Mac finished combing the main floor for signs of Victor. The only signs
that he had found which indicated that someone was living here was in one of
the bedrooms; there was a single mattress on the floor covered with a sleeping
bag and at the foot of the mattress there was a duffle bag. The total contents
inside the bag consisted of two complete changes of clothes, a Polaroid camera
with 6 pictures left on the film, 5 wrapped needles, Is this guy diabetic?,
and a box of un-lubricated condoms .
Condoms?
In the bathroom he found men's shaving effects, a very grubby towel, a face
cloth along with a toothbrush though no paste could be seen and a bar of
generic white soap.
The bathtub held three large containers of water. The bottles were similar
to the ones used in an office building. Mac assumed the water was for flushing
the toilet and washing. As he was finishing up his inspection, the agent spied
the corner of a manilla colored envelope peeking out from under the mattress.
He squatted down and pulled it out, dumping its contents on the gray sleeping
bag. Mac stared at the items, then picked up a stack of the instant photo's
and looked through them, studying the pictures.
All of the Polaroids were of Victor. Victor leaving his apartment
building, Victor entering his building, Victor coming out of shops or just
standing still waiting at a cross walk. Several of them were taken in the
park. Even a few of the photos had Mulder in them. In those, Mulder's face
had been scribbled over with blue ink, but Mac could still tell it was the FBI
Agent. All of the pictures had been snapped during daylight hours. Mac
guessed that Jack wouldn't risk using a flash bulb; Victor would notice
something like that. He wondered briefly where Jack had hidden to take these;
some of the shots were taken at a very close distance.
He put the Polaroids carefully back in the envelope. In every one Victor was
either smiling (the Mulder shots) or was straight-faced and serious (the alone
shots). In Mac's opinion, Vic looked nothing less than stunningly handsome in
all of them.
Could he even take a bad picture?
With a pang of longing, Mac pushed away his inappropriate thoughts of Victor.
Taking the envelope with him, he left the bedroom and passed through the
kitchen.
There was no doubt in Mac's mind now that this was where Jack had been
staying. When he reached the top of the stairs he heard a crash. Mac threw
the envelope onto the counter top and drew his weapon. Suddenly, he heard
Mulder yelling out his name with urgency, telling him that he had found Victor
and to call 911. Mac holstered his gun and started down the stairs taking two
at a time while pulling out his cell phone...
Mulder was staring at Victor through yet another doorway, only this one
was full-sized. He was laying flat on his back with blood covering most his
face, as well as having a large pool of it underneath his head. The scarlet
liquid spreading out from underneath him to form a imperfect circle about one
foot in diameter. From his position, Mulder was also able to see that Victor
had blood all over his bare chest as well.
OH MY GOD!
There was a man lying on top of Victor, Jack, Mulder assumed, covering most
of the agent's body. The guy seemed to be bleeding too. Though it felt like
minutes to Mulder, it actually had taken him only a couple of seconds to absorb
the grisly scene and then shout for Mac, "MAC. MAC COME QUICK! IT'S VIC, CALL
911!
Part Seven: Allies and Enemies
Mac reached the bottom of the rickety stairs at the same time as he pushed
an unmarked button on his cell phone. The pre-programmed number dialed through
to the Agency's infirmary/emergency room automatically. Mac had phoned this
number only once before; the last time was when Victor had been shot and at the
same time, LiAnne had called out rather dramatically, that she had broken her
leg. The phoned beeped through and was answered on the first ring.
"What's the emergency Mac?" asked a male voice.
Mac thought the operator must of have call display because he did not
recognize the calm masculine voice that spoke to him. Because reception was
fuzzy already, Mac had to squat in the frame of the small half-door and recite
what he was seeing. His task was impaired by Mulder, who was rolling a body
that look like Jack's off of an unconscious Victor, thus blocking his view in
the process.
Mulder glanced quickly over his shoulder, acknowledging Mac with a look before
turning back to start checking to see if Victor was still alive.
Mac could not believe all the blood that he was seeing and he hoped to God
that it wasn't all Victor's. Swallowing down the lump in his throat Mac said
a lot more calmly than he felt, "It's Victor, he's down. Yes again!" He
impatiently snapped into the phone.
Mac pulled out his key chain as he talked and depressed a small yellow button
on his automatic lock/unlock device for his car; thereby setting off his
location beacon so that the medic-team could find them.
"There's a lot of blood. I don't know what happened to him." It was then
that Mac caught a glint of silver lying on the floor. Seeing the scalpel
covered in blood, Mac's eyes widened and he uttered in panic into the phone,
"Shit, I think he's been stabbed! Hurry up and get a team out here! Okay,
were in a small house between the old Atlas and North Shore storage houses.
It's covered in green plant stuff... I don't know ! Christ I'm not a fucking
botanist!"
Mac was distressed over Victor's condition. He wanted to be in there
helping Mulder, who was glancing his way wide-eyed and yelling "Hurry
up." Not answering questions about what kind of ivy was growing out
front. "Look, I gotta go; Agent Mulder needs my help. It's the only house on
this street for Christsake's. They can't miss it!" Frustrated Mac hung up on
the man on the other end, before another stupid question could be posed to
him.
After Mulder had shouted for Mac to come and help, he re-holstered his own
gun and scrambled into the hidden room. Climbing right over the prone men, he
began pulling Jack off of Victor. Mulder looked up when he heard Mac on the
phone asking for help. He could hear Mac shouting and saw that the other man
seemed to be arguing with someone.
Isn't he supposed to be talking to 911?
Mulder turned to him and yelled a panicky, "Hurry up." Grunting, he finally
managed to pull Jack off of Victor and drag the limp body a few feet away.
Being partnered with a medical doctor in certain situations had its
advantages; this was one of those instances.
Mulder, who had seen Scully perform the same procedure hundreds of times,
stuck two shaky fingers up against Victor's carotid artery. Relief washed
through him when he felt a strong but fast pulse rate. He grabbed a small
white cloth that was laying near a tray and hastily folded it up and pressed
the material to Victor's forehead, trying to stop the cut from bleeding out
more. Mac, in the meantime, had put away his phone and was crawling over to
where Mulder and Victor were.
Seeing that Mulder seemed to have apparently forgotten that there was
another wounded man in the room, Mac scurried over to Victor's captor and felt
for a pulse at the neck, the same way as Mulder had done. Mac didn't do this
out of sympathy for another injured person, for all he cared the man could be
dying right in front of his eyes, Jack would not receive any help from either
one of the agents. He was only checking to see if Jack was still alive out of
necessity; presumed "dead" people sometimes tended to rear up at just the wrong
moments. Mac had no wish to be shot or stabbed in the back; one casualty was
enough.
"He's dead," Mac announced indifferently.
"GOOD!" Replied Mulder after Mac informed him of Jack's death.
Saves me the trouble of killing him.
Mac came over and knelt down on the other side of Victor, sitting across
from Mulder he asked hesitantly, "Victor..Is he...?" With all that blood on
him it was hard for Mac to tell
"He's alive." Mulder replied monotone, it was really all Mulder could do
to keep his emotions on a tight leash. He wanted to pick Victor up and hug him
close and cry for joy that he was still alive, but Mulder could hardly do that
in front of the man's partner. So instead he tried to act professionally
detached. "I think he's only unconscious, at least I hope he isn't comatose.
Most of the blood seems to have come from Jack over there." Mulder pointed
unnecessarily towards the corpse.
He looked directly into Mac's deep brown eyes and continued on, blinking
back his emotions. "The only open wound I can see is the cut right here."
Mulder removed the makeshift bandage and lifted what little bangs Victor had,
showing Mac the cut. It had stopped streaming blood and was now just dripping
at a slow pace. Two large tear-shaped drops broke away, slowly sliding down
the right temple of the motionless Victor.
Mac stared down onto the face of the man, who in the beginning, he had
tried to hate, but never really could. They had grown closer over time and
forged their own bond of friendship above and beyond LiAnne. Looking down
now at the battered face of his best and only friend, Mac was speechless.
Trying to describe his feelings was impossible. Victor looked so young and
vulnerable. His usual scowl was smoothed out and if Mac hadn't known better he
would have thought that he was merely asleep. Mac supposed, that in a way, he
was. The torture Victor had endured in his captivity was evident. From the
pair of blackened eyes to the purplish-red skin burn ringing his neck; Victor
was a mess. Mac also thought he saw a large hickey next to a bite mark on
Victor's chest, but he couldn't be positive because of all of the blood that
was on Victor obscured his view. Mac tore his eyes away from Vic and looked
to Mulder for confirmation of the surface damage done to his partner. What he
saw was a pair of hazel eyes that were shiny with unshed tears. Mac quickly
averted his gaze back down to Victor and pretended not to notice what he had
seen.
Mulder was not ashamed of his feelings for Victor, but he did however,
think that Victor would not be impressed to have him crying over his body
either. So After a minute Mulder pinched the bridge of his nose and quickly
swiped at the corners of his eyes. Giving a wet sniff Mulder ran his hand
over Victor's torso and continued on with his amateur check-up of his
condition. "His chest's fine. He's hasn't been stabbed anywhere that I can
see or feel at least. I don't know exactly what this guy did to him, but
Victor took one hell of a beating, that's for sure," Mulder said sadly. He
gently ran his finger tips over the now scabbed over cut on Victor's right
cheek bone.
You poor bastard, what did he do to you?
"Judging by the bruises," Mulder pointed to the extensively damaged areas on
the neck, "Jack must have been choking him and somehow Victor managed to grab
the blade over there and stick it in him." Mulder kept thinking of Scully and
what she would do.
Check out the rest of him, that's what.
"Here." Mulder said to Mac. "Help me roll him over. On the count of three,
push him my way. Ready?"
Mac nodded and said "Yep." Mulder counted down and on three Mac gently
pushed the unconscious man towards Mulder's lap. Mulder caught and held
Victor's position. Neither man was ready for what he saw. Mac gasped and
exclaimed loudly, "Holy Shit!"
Mulder put one hand to his mouth and swore emphatically. "FUCK !" The
ruined condition of Victor's once beautiful back shocked the hell out of him.
Mulder considered himself to be a hardened agent, he had seen a lot of violence
in his years at the bureau, but to see violence, like this, committed against
someone he cared about, was another story. It was not so easy to deal with
when you know the victim.
Mac didn't need Agent Mulder to tell him that Vic had been beaten with a
belt and that the buckle had been the culprit in creating so much ruin.
Unfortunately, Mac had once been on the receiving end of a beating with a
leather belt; actually, more than once. The bruises on his partner's back were
still deepening in colour and some of the welts still bled and wept. Mac knew
from experience that cleaning those wounds would with out a doubt hurt the
most.
Mulder stared unblinking, wishing that Jack was alive so he could kill him
all over again himself. He looked at his wristwatch and then snapped at Mac,
"Where the hell is the ambulance? You did call 911 right?"
The look on Mac's face told it all; of course he hadn't called 911, "NO, I
called the agency." He looked at his own watch and saw that 12 minutes had gone
by already; they should be here soon. "It's policy to look after our own. The
chopper will be here any minute." After receiving a hard glare from Mulder,
Mac added, "A doctor and a medic-team will be flying in to look after him.
It's better than the hospital. Trust me." As if on cue, both Mac and Mulder
heard the door upstairs being crashed in and then heavy footsteps overhead.
"RAMSEY!" Shouted an unfamiliar voice.
"Down the stairs" Shouted Mac. He reluctantly left Victor's side to
guide the medical team to where they were.
Mulder maneuvered himself so that Victor's head was in his lap but was
still resting on his left side. Taking advantage of Mac's brief absence Mulder
ran his fingers through the hair on the top of Victor's head while whispering
to him softly that everything was going to be alright now.
No thanks to me.
Mulder was overflowing with guilt. He heard a soft moan and saw that Victor
had opened up his blackened right eye and was looking up at him.
"Fox, is that really you?" Victor asked, his voice low and raspy.
"It's me." Mulder smiled down at the man in his lap, not even noticing
that a fat tear had left his eye and landed in Victor's short hair. He ran the
tip of his finger gently over the parts of the younger man's face that were not
battered.
Victor returned Mulder's smile with a small, shaky grin of his, this one,
showing none of his teeth. "I knew someone would come for me. But I thought
it would be Mac and LiAnne." Victor saw the anxiety in his lovers eyes, "Don't
worry Fox, I'll be okay." Victor raised his arm and gripped Mulder's wrist,
trying to re-assure the man as much as himself.
Mulder chuckled softly and ran his finger lightly over Victor's battered
lips, "Mac's here. Directing your rescue squad. God, I should be trying to
make you feel better, not the other way around." Mulder chided himself.
Victor blinked twice. He felt like he was going to pass out again, he
spoke in a half whisper to Mulder, "I want you to be there at the hospital
when I wake up Fox. Promise me."
"I promise, Vic. I will."
Victor finally allowed himself to shut his eyes and he blacked out again, with
Mulder still cradling his head.
Mulder's fingers could feel a large lump on the back of Victor's head and
he worried that Victor might have a concussion. He was relieved when the
Doctor and his team finally rushed into the room with all of the necessary
equipment. Mulder gently pulled himself out from under Victor and lay his head
on the small pillow that came with the portable stretcher. He stood up and
backed away a few steps, then left the room. Standing side by side, shoulder
touching shoulder with Mac, both men watched silently as the efficient medical
crew assessed Victor's condition. After a moment Mac pulled out his cell phone
and dialed the Director's number to let her know what was going on.
Mulder, Mac and LiAnne all impatient, hung around the waiting room of
the Agency's infirmary. Victor was safely ensconced behind two opaque,
rippled glass doors, but they were not allowed to go in to see him; the
watchdog receptionist at the counter by the doors saw to that. So close and
yet so far away. No one had bothered to come out to tell them anything
either.
Mulder was pacing the short distance between the doors leading to Victor
and the clear glass doors that lead to a long hall way. Back and forth he
went, counting off the 6 paces mentally, had his strides been shorter it would
have been 8 steps. He would reach the end and then spin around on his heel and
walk back to where he had come from, repeating the process over and over again.
His pacing was driving LiAnne crazy, but she said nothing. She only glared
at him, shooting him full of imaginary bullets.
Mulder, of course took no notice of her or her angry stare. He only had
time for thoughts of Victor and Victor alone. He kept going over all of the
what ifs again and again.
Mac chose to pass the time by sprawling sideways in an overstuffed chair
with his eyes closed, going over tai-chi moves in his head. The imaginary
tai-chi also helped to calm himself.
The three of them had already been waiting there for over two hours.
Victor had been flown in by the Agency's chopper; the journey taking only 15
minutes. Mac and Mulder had to drive back on their own, it was mostly a
silent trip that took them only 40 minutes to drive. Arriving at the agency a
full 20 minutes faster then it had originally took them to get to Jack's
hideaway. Mac, had broken every speed law and ignored every road sign possible
just to get back as fast as he could, not knowing that they wouldn't even be
able to see Victor right away any ways.
LiAnne had joined them shortly after their arrival at the infirmary, she
had come with Dobrinski. But he had left her waiting there with the other two
men while he went off to find the Director.
Mac had began to contemplate going to look for the Director on his own, when he
saw her marching down the hall with Dobrinski by her side.
Dobrinski held the glass door open for her and followed her in.
"What's going on with Victor? Anyone know?" The Director looked at all
three of them, waiting for her question to be answered. All three agents
shrugged their shoulders in time with their head shakes.
LiAnne spoke first, "No one knows a thing. According to Darla over
there..." The receptionist at the desk looked up at the mention of her name
but then went back to her own work when she saw that she was not involved in
the conversation, "...He's still being examined. No one will talk to us, and
we aren't allowed in to see him," LiAnne said petulantly.
"Yeah" Mac chimed in after, "No info, no entrance. Typical Agency
procedure." He rolled his eyes and looked from the Director to Mulder who,
Mac was glad to see, had stopped pacing but obviously did not plan on adding to
the conversation.
"Well," the Director stated firmly, "I'll go see what's going on. Wait
here."
Not that the three of them had any choice in the matter.
Marching purposefully, The Director disappeared through the doors leading into
the examining rooms. Dobrinski remained behind to wait with the three of them.
She returned a few minutes later with a pleasant-faced man with deep brown skin
who looked to be in his late 30's. The Director introduced the man as Dr.
Anwar, and judging by his soft accent, Mulder placed him as having come from
Jamaican descent. After the introductions were done Dr. Anwar got down to
business.
He flipped open the metal clip board that held Victor's medical charts and
recited the results to the expectant crowd, "Well first off let me tell you
that Mr. Mansfield is going to be ok." Dr. Anwar noticed the look of relief
that showed on everyone's face. "He has a mild concussion that will leave him
with a headache for a few days, but there should be no lasting damage as a
result. He was awake, by the way, for the exam.
As for his other injuries: there is no permanent damage to his windpipe
beyond a hoarse throat and a friction burn mixed in with a whole cluster of
bruises that will last up to a couple of weeks."
The Doctor looked up from his chart and saw that everyone was listening
intently to every word he said. Flipping the page he looked down to his own
notes and continued on, "We stitched up the cut in the hairline on his
forehead. It was fairly deep and took 12 of my best sutures to close it up.
But there won't be a visible scar when it's all healed, and the small
laceration on his cheek took...lemme see..." He flipped to yet another page,
"...Oh here it is, 4 stitches to close. Unfortunately and depending on how
well his skin heals, he will have a small scar from that. Nothing too
noticeable though."
Dr. Anwar smiled and said lightly, "I told him it would just add some
character to his face. Um.., the welts on his back were another matter, open
weals can very nasty. Victor says that they were the result of his being
strapped with a leather belt and buckle. The marks should heal on their own
and we cleansed them all..." Mac inwardly winced at the mention of the
cleansing of the open cuts, "...and bandaged up the ones that were the worst.
The rest just needed to be air dried."
The Doctor coughed lightly into his hand before scanning over his chart
again. He finally closed it, the pages hitting together made a soft clapping
noise. "Now along with the blackened eyes and various other minor bumps and
bruises that will heal in time, his overall blood stores needs to be built up
again. Agent Mansfield needs to eat a diet of foods high in iron over the
next few days. In consideration of his shrunken stomach and the state of
dehydration he's in, I would recommend supplementing what little he can eat
with multi-vitamin tablets containing iron. He can go home tomorrow morning."
"But," the Doctor's tone of voice turned more serious, "...there's
something else you should know. Even though Agent Mansfield denies being
sexually assaulted by anal penetration—and the rape kit I performed on him
backs up his claim—I think there is enough evidence to prove that something
did happen. Exactly what, I can't say for sure. He was very tight-lipped
about the whole ordeal."
"What exactly are you getting at Doctor?" Everyone standing there was
thinking the same question but it was Dobrinski who asked it.
"What I mean is that even though he wasn't raped in the traditional sense,
sexual assault may still have occurred . He has several bite marks on his
chest and a few hickey like marks that are a couple of days old."
Mulder's eyes widened with the last comment. He hoped that the hickeys the
Doctor were referring to were the one's made by him.
Dr. Anwar looked to the Director and said to her, "Mr. Mansfield had at
first adamantly refused our suggestion to perform a rape kit. He argued
vigorously against it, but knowing the perp's history and with Victor being
drugged and unconscious for some of his time in captivity, I insisted on
running those tests. Just in case. I also ran a complete drug screen after I
found the two puncture marks on the inside of his elbow...he came up positive
for heroin, and a trace amounts of a drug known to knock you un-conscious .
Victor claims that he was only injected twice with the heroin, and judging
by the fact that he has shown no signs of de-toxing from the drug, it's safe to
assume that he is in no danger of becoming a habitual user. He did say that
both times the needles were from fresh packages. The knock out drug entered
his system when he was first taken, that's how your perp managed to grab
Victor. Also, I did an HIV test, with his permission of course, but I think
his risk of exposure was minimal. He will receive the results when they come
back... in confidence of course."
That last thing Mac would have thought those needles he found were for
shooting Victor up with drugs.
So that's what the needles were for!
The Director nodded her head in affirmation of what the Doctor had told
her. "When can he go back to work?" If this cold attitude shocked the Doctor
he did not let on.
"Well, to be honest ma'am, he shouldn't even be going home tomorrow. I
told him that he would need 2 or 3 days in the infirmary to recover, then
another week at home after that. But he insisted on going home tomorrow
morning." The Doctor smiled before continuing, "He even said that he had
friends who would help him sneak out if I didn't let him go, he intimated to me
that they were trigger happy..."
The Doctor did laugh at that point then commented on Victor having a "big
pair of cojones to threaten an Agency Doctor."
"Give him a week off his feet then he can go back to light, desk duty."
Recommended the doctor.
All five people listening knew that Victor would not like desk duty one bit.
But the Director called the shots and she personally did not care what Victor
would or would not like.
"He'll need a full psych exam and work up. Two weeks of recovery time should
be enough for him; that is if Victor feels rested by then and if his
psychiatrist approves. I must reiterate that it's important that you make him
go and talk to one of the agency's shrinks about what happened. It's been in
my experience that one does not just recover psychologically overnight from the
ordeal such as Mr. Mansfield has been through. Now if you'll excuse me I must
get back to work. "
"Fine, I make sure he sees an agency head doctor. Thank you, Dr. Anwar."
The Director turned to her right-hand man and said, "Let's go Dobrinski. Mac,
LiAnne, I need you in the office tomorrow morning, 10:00 am sharp. Mr. Mulder,
it was nice meeting you. You can go home any time." The Director went up to
Mulder and reached out to shake his hand.
When he complied she grabbed a hold of him and pulled him close; so close
in fact that Mulder thought she was going to kiss him. Mulder leaned back
slightly. The Director laughed and whispered quietly in his ear, "Take care of
Victor. See that he gets back to his place tomorrow in one piece. After what
he's been through, I'm sure he'll need a good psychologist to help him make it
through the night." The Director backed away and turned to Dobrinski and with
a nod of her head they left.
Mulder watched the Director walk away, wondering what her game was. With
all of her innuendo and sly comments, she obviously thought she knew something
about him and Victor. Exactly what Mulder wasn't sure. Either way it was
really none of her business.
Before Dr. Anwar left the waiting area he asked, "Which one of you is
named Fox Mulder?"
Slightly surprised, Mulder answered with, "That'll be me."
"Well can you come with me? Victor's been asking for you," said the
Doctor amicably.
"What about us? We Are HIS partners," Mac stated emphatically. "I need
to see him too."
"Me too." LiAnne piped in, jealous of Mulder.
"Sorry," the Doctor replied, "but one visitor at a time is enough for now.
He'll be discharged first thing in the morning; you can go and see him at his
home after that. He'll be fine, honestly," The Doctor added when he saw the
worried faces of the other two Agents.
Mulder, who managed to look guilty even though he didn't feel it, said to
Mac before he left with the Doctor, "I'll call you if anything changes, Ok?"
"Alright. Tell Vic we'll call on him tomorrow at home and see how he's
doing," answered Mac glumly.
"Ok, I will. Promise." Mulder turned and walked away with the Doctor. As
he was going through the doors he heard LiAnne call him an asshole under her
breath.
Mulder ignored her remark and thought what a bitch.
As soon as the thick glass doors closed behind Mulder, got the instructions of
how to get to Victor's room and then went there immediately. He needed to see
the man who made him feel good, even when his life was falling apart all around
him.
Mulder entered the plain hospital room. Glancing at the clock on the
wall, Mulder was a little amazed to see that it read 10:00 PM.
Already? Where did the time go?
Dr. Anwar had warned him that Victor had been given a mild sedative, so coming
into the quiet room and seeing Victor asleep did not surprise him very much.
Victor was asleep on his stomach and he looked peaceful. His face was relaxed;
no lines of worry crossed the bridge of his nose or his forehead and Mulder
thought that he looked beautiful, black eyes not with standing.
There was a nurse checking on his vitals when Mulder arrived. She smiled
warmly at him and asked, "Mr. Mulder?" Mulder nodded in assent. "Good, Mr.
Mansfield has been asking about you. He will want you to be here when he wakes
up. Buzz if you need anything." The pretty nurse handed Mulder a pillow and a
green cotton blanket and pointed out a padded chaise lounge chair that was in
the upright position. She said Good night to him and then left.
Mulder waited until the door had and the soft footsteps faded away before
pulling the chair right to the edge of the hospital bed. He did not sit down
immediately. All of the events that had unfolded during day had finally caught
up with him and suddenly he felt exhausted. But before getting some of his own
much needed rest, Mulder bent over and kissed Victor on his cheek lightly. He
let his lips linger over the soft, sweet smelling skin beneath, noting in
passing that somewhere along the line someone had bathed the sleeping agent.
Finally, Mulder sank into the chair heavily, blinking back his tears. His
motions were not unlike what he had done at Scully's bedside, when in sheer,
overwhelming joy, he had wept over her prone form upon finding out that her
cancer had disappeared.
Worn out, he placed both hands on Victor's left arm and rested his head between
them. Then he silently wept, relieved that he was here at his new lover's
bedside instead of at his grave side.
Part Eight: Nightmares and Night terrors
LiAnne jammed the key into the lock, opened up her apartment door, and then
kicked it shut behind herself. She was very pissed off that she had not been
allowed to stay behind with Victor. She couldn't believe that her former fiancé`
would choose Mulder over her or Mac even.
That guy must have some sort of hold on Vic.
She had every intention of going to see Victor in the morning to find out just
what exactly, was going on. LiAnne already made up her mind that she was going
to have a talk with Victor; she wanted to see how he felt about the possibility
of them getting back together.
LiAnne walked down the unlit hall to her bedroom. Once there she quickly
stripped down and wrapped a towel around herself. After running a hot bath she
scented the water with her favorite, sandalwood bath oil. And after a long,
comforting soak in the perfumed water, LiAnne decided to turn in for the
night.
Sleep did not come easily for LiAnne, and when it finally claimed her, the
slumber was restless and her dreams were vivid—
LiAnne, dressed in a very sensible beige 3-piece suit, stopped in front of
the door to her apartment. After a few seconds of hesitation, she grabbed the
knob and turned it.
"Strange..." she thought to herself, "...the door's locked."
Which is unusual since her fiancé should be home by now. Being the
considerate man that he is, Victor usually leaves the door open for her, knowing
she'll be arriving shortly after him. Today however, LiAnne is coming home a
little bit late, after a hard day at the office.
Managing to fish out her own key, LiAnne let herself in. And as she entered,
the exhausted woman called out, "Honey, I'm home!" Crossing over to the kitchen
counter, she deposited her briefcase on top of it and called out again, "Victor,
are you here?" Only this time a little louder.
Leaving the kitchen area. LiAnne sees that Victor's leather jacket and gun
holster are hanging on the brass coat rack. Thinking that he must be in the
shower, LiAnne started down the thickly carpeted hall, wondering as she walked,
why there is a trail of clothes leading to the bedroom. In fact, LiAnne finally
notices, there are two sets of clothing leading the way: two t-shirts, two pairs
of socks and so on.
Once she had reached the entrance to the master bedroom, LiAnne hesitantly
pushed the partially cracked door all the way open. And what she saw in her
bedroom shocked her.
There are two men in her bed and both are naked. One of the men is Fox Mulder,
who is presently stretched out on top of Victor—her fiancé—and
kissing him passionately. Mulder rolled off of Victor when he heard LiAnne's
startled gasp and rested easily on one elbow; palm under his chin and cheek.
He smirked up at her while at the same time idly running the tips of his
fingers over Victor's bare chest. Mulder was totally unconcerned about being
caught in bed with Victor, and he knew full well that his presence was
intentionally provoking her.
LiAnne, frozen by the scene, can do nothing but continue to stare in silent
incredulity.
After a second, Mulder stopped smirking and asked her malevolently, "Something
the matter, LiAnne?"
"What the hell are you doing? In my bed with my fiancée?" She
finally demanded, trying not to sputter too much as she spoke. By emphasizing
the possessive pronoun 'my', she is attempting to tell Mulder that he owns
neither.
Back to smirking again, Mulder replied cheekily, "I think it's fairly obvious.
Don't you?"
Now her anger is unleashed, and feeling nothing but contempt for the F.B.I.
agent, LiAnne yelled, "Get out right now! Victor doesn't want you! He
still loves me!"
"Nooo... LiAnne, that's where you're wrong, he used to love you. Now he
loves... me." Mulder's pleasure in tormenting her was obvious.
"That's not true," she countered hotly, knowing that she is defeated any ways.
"Yes it is. The minute Mac came to town you tossed Victor away like
yesterday's leftovers. You broke his heart, LiAnne. And I'm in the process of
mending it for him." The man was gloating by throwing the ugly truth back in her
beautiful face.
"But... but... Victor what about me?" LiAnne made her plea directly to Victor,
who has been laying on his back with his arms folded under his head, remaining
silent for the whole impassioned exchange.
She watched silent, as Victor looked to Mulder first and then smiled up at the
American agent. She continues to stare as he bats his long, dark lashes up at
his lover; green eyes glowing with contentment. Victor sighed, then looking back
to her, he cut the smiling out and set his mouth into a hard line. His eyes
remained cold and unemotional when he spoke to her.
"You blew it, LiAnne. I gave you everything I had and you threw it away. We're
just friends now. Nothing more."
As if having to say all that has exhausted him, Victor rolled over, onto his
stomach and closed his eyes. Promptly falling back asleep.
Mulder spoke to LiAnne, no longer hiding the hostility in his voice, "Face the
facts sweetie, he doesn't want you any more. You're old news." Mulder reached
over and began to stroke Victor's back; the white sheet covering him only to his
waist. Gloating over his triumph, Mulder bent his head and just before he
planted a kiss on Victor's shoulder blade he hissed, "Now leave us alone, and
don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out." Not waiting for her to
reply, Mulder continued on with his intended task, and kissed Victor, all over
his back.
Rejected and hurt, LiAnne backed out of the bedroom, unable to take her eyes
off of the two men. Because she wasn't watching where she was going, LiAnne
accidentally backed into the door frame. Knocking her already aching head
against it hard.
The jolt of hitting her head in the dream forced LiAnne to wale from her
sleep. Rolling over, she punched her pillow into the perfect thickness. And
laying back down, she angrily mumbled, "Mulder, you're such an asshole."
Mac stepped out of the shower and toweled dried his short spiky hair. He still
couldn't believe that Victor had asked to see Mulder over LiAnne and him.
So okay, they're lovers after all, but still.
Mac was exhausted, he had been on an emotional roller coaster ever since his
partner's disappearance. The huge adrenaline rush of the day's events had left
him feeling as if someone picked him up and wrung him out like an old dishrag.
Mac wiped the fog off of the mirror and started shaving. All the while, he could
not help but feel that he had already been given his chance with Victor and
blown it.
But damn it! How was he to know that Victor was into guys as well? Of course,
all of the harmless flirting that they had done in the past made sense,
now. But at the time, Mac felt that perhaps he was just seeing what he
wanted see and hearing what he wanted to hear. And in the end, he had chalked up
the several flirtatious episodes he had experienced with Victor to his own
wishful thinking.
Now that Mulder was in the picture, Mac would never find out if he and Victor
could have made a real go of it.
LiAnne would've really hated that anyway.
Contrary to the popular belief, Mac, in his infinite pride, did not believe in
cheating with a person who was already spoken for. Therefore and unfortunately,
Victor was rendered off-limits to him...for now. However, he figured that all he
would have to do was just sit and wait, biding his time until another
opportunity came along. And if that occasion should ever come up, Mac would not
be so foolish as to let it slip by him again. He removed his robe and crawled
naked into his large bed.
Mulder has to go home sometime.
Was Mac's last thought before drifting off...
The blinds were closed in Mac's living room and the lights had been set
on a very cliched low. Two large black wrought iron candelabras'' were
standing nearby, each holding their capacity of 6 white pillar candles. All 12
candles were lit, throwing off flickers of light, making shadows dance on the
modernly plain white walls.
Victor, who is sitting on the love seat, is curiously looking at the
surroundings around him. He gazed at the candles and then to the only light that
is on all the way in the room; a small pot light highlighting a modern oil
painting. The music in the playing in the background is lyrical soft. Bryan
Adams is singing that Everything I do, I do it for you...
Victor called out to his partner, "I thought we were just going to catch up on
paperwork. How come it looks like all the trappings of a date?"
Seconds later, Mac emerged from the depths of his kitchen carrying two full
wine glasses in one hand and a ridiculously expensive-looking receptacle holding
the liquid in the other. Handing a glass to Victor he set the bottle on the
coffee table.
Victor accepted the offered spirits and sipped from the crystal tentatively. It
was obvious that he was a bit nervous and Mac standing over him watching him
drink the wine isn't helping. Victor swallowed and smiling shyly, he looked up
at Mac. With big green eyes accentuated by dark, dark lashes he said in a low
tone. "Thanks."
Victor has no idea what effect his smile and his demure gaze has on his male
partner. Mac dropped into a spot on the love seat, right next to Victor,
intentionally invading his personal space. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the
older man's natural essence, a scent that was uniquely Victor; citrus mixed in
with his cologne.
Breathing in the heady aroma has left Mac with a feeling of aggressiveness and
the desire to control. Deciding that he had done enough waiting for Victor to
come around and see him for what he was; a potent lover and not simply
his partner. Mac shifted himself even closer still to Victor. He reached out
and plucked the wine glass from Victor hand. He set the two glasses down heavily
next to the bottle and then pushed himself almost on top of a very surprised
Victor. Forcing the other man to retreat backwards to avoid his blatant
advances.
"What are you doing Mac?," Victor managed.
Mac has Victor trapped between his own body and the padded armrest of the
small couch. Victor in an attempt to stand, pushed himself up using his elbows
as leverage, but the maneuver fails to succeed as Mac grabs a handful of the
green shirt that he is wearing—a personal favorite of Mac's—and pulls him
back down with a hard jerk.
When Victor opened his mouth to protest, Mac covered his mouth with his own
and obscenely shoved his tongue inside, kissing him roughly and bruising his
lips. Victor tried moving his head from side to side to escape the brutal
kisses, but Mac holds him firm. Mac used one hand to pin Victor's wrists
together and with the other, he reached down with the other to reef out the
tucked-in shirt from Victor's jeans.
Victor after some struggling, managed to free his wrists and tried to push Mac
off of himself. But the effort, though valiant, is in vain because Mac has
already succeeded in getting Victor's shirt open by ripping it viciously,
scattering buttons everywhere. The shirt taken care of, Mac moved on to un-doing
the belt around Victor's waist. The button fly jeans prove to be of no
difficulty for Mac as he quickly undoes the buttons one-handed. He while gave up
on restraining Victor's wrists and controlled him by simply wrapping his other
strong hand around Victor's throat and squeezing.
Through the whole ordeal Victor kept saying things like "No" and "Mac please
stop it, you're hurting me." Trying to discourage his attacker, but his cries
fall on deaf ears.
Mac was not hearing the pleadings and protests coming from his partner.
In Mac's mind Victor really wanted this even though he appeared to be
fighting it. Eventually, all of Victor's struggling takes a toll and wears him
out. Mac, who has been biting on and sucking at Victor's neck, smiles, believing
that since the handsome man below him has given up fighting, he is therefore
giving his consent to the inevitable.
Mac yanked down Victor's jeans to his knees, trapping his legs further. He
flipped Victor over and leaned in to bite the base of his neck hard, making the
man beneath him cry out in pain and beg.
"Please, Mac, I don't want this" Tried Victor, one more time.
But Mac is engorged and ready, and he doesn't take into consideration that
Victor might not be. Mac spit into his palm and rubbed himself lewdly against
Victors smooth, hard ass. Then suddenly, without warning, he plunged himself
into Victor's tight anus. He was forced to stop about three inches of the way
in, the tight concentric muscle prevented him from entering all the way. Victor,
in agony, screamed from the pain and humiliation, but Mac is oblivious to
everything except the sensation of Victor's tight, tight ass.
Pushing a little harder, Mac could feel it when the small muscle spasm and
then gave way, blanketing him in ecstacy. Mindless of the weak struggles and
cries beneath him and to the fact that his way is now lubricated by a small
amount of blood, Mac continued to push into Victor again and again. Grabbing
Victor by the hair he wrenches the sweaty head to its side and hisses, "I wanted
to see you in the hospital Vic. You should have let me see you." He then invaded
Victor's now submissive mouth with his tongue again and orgasms with an
intensity he has never felt before.
Mac jack knifed up into a sitting position in his bed. Flinging back the quilt
and swinging his legs out of bed, he bent over and cradled his head in his
hands.
Oh god, what just happened? I haven't had a wet dream in years.
Rising up, Mac flipped on the small lamp at his bedside. He was so embarrassed,
but beyond that he was ashamed, ashamed of himself for dreaming about raping
Victor. He couldn't believe that he had hurt his partner and best friend like
that, then had an orgasm over it.
Maybe he was the one who should see a psychiatrist.
Mac walked into the ensuite, wrenched the water on, and then stepped into the
cold spray of the shower.
Victor could not believe the humiliation of being subjected to having an extra
long cotton swab shoved up his ass in search of semen, and by a Agency Doctor
too!
God if he ever tells anybody...
He had told the Doctor that he hadn't been fucked. But the Doctor wouldn't
listen to him; insisting that the test was for his own safety. The
examination and subsequent repair of his battered body could not be over quick
enough for Victor. When it was, he had been offered a sedative and he took it,
not thinking that it would take effect so soon. He had wanted to see Mulder
first, to talk to him about what had happened. Mulder was a psychologist after
all, he would know what to do.
Victor couldn't face LiAnne and especially Mac yet. Though he knew that they
would be there, waiting to hear any news of him. He would talk to them tomorrow.
The Doctor promised to send Mulder in before leaving the room. But before
Victor had a chance to see his lover, he had felt his eyes grow heavy and no
sooner had he shut them, than he was asleep...
Victor ran, full throttle, through the park. He is barefoot and
bare-chested and it is dark out. The air is cold enough out for Victor to see
his own breath as he runs. The forest starts to move, undulate actually then it
begins to grow close around him and suddenly the branches of a very old Douglas
fir tree wrap around him and pull him in tight to it's trunk.
Scrambling to break free, Victor managed to crawl out from under the scratchy
branches on his hands and knees. But before he can stand and start running
again, he freezes as he sees a pair of feet clad in steel-toed work boots before
him.
Victor looked up slowly, straight into Jack's ice blue eyes. The moon is
shining behind Jack, making him appear even more ominous than the last time they
had met. Jack smiled down at Victor who was still frozen in the position he is
in from fear. In his right hand he is twirling a pair of metal handcuffs around
and around on one finger; in the left he has such a tight grip on his leather
belt that his knuckles are white.
Victor, though bodily paralyzed with fear, finally managed to shout out,
"HELP!"
Jack laughed in derision. "When a man cries for help in the woods, can anyone
really hear him? Give it up doll face, I've got you all over again."
Victor swallowed down his rising gorge and tried to sound unafraid as he
spoke. "I k-killed you." But he is unsuccessful, he sounds frightened even to
his own ears.
Jack finds this last statement of Victor's funny. "Yes, that is true Victor,
but every time you open your mouth for your boyfriend, it will always, always
pass through you mind first, what I made you do. I may be dead but memories of
you and I will stay with you. Forever." Jack shrugged his shoulders and ceased
twirling the handcuffs.
He reached down to the scruff of Victor's neck and digging his fingers into
the tender skin at the nape of Victor's neck Jack pulled the agent to his knees.
"Now be a good boy like you were before and open your mouth... nice and wide
now..."
Unable to control his body or his mind Victor obeyed, obediently opens his
mouth to receive Jack's erection...
Victor woke up at that point, gagging and short of breath. He was sweating but
despite that, he still felt compelled to pull the thin blanket that he had
kicked off up, so that it rests right under his chin. Trying to form some sort
of a protective barrier.
Great. Nightmares. Just what I need.
He sat up and turned on the small flourescent light in the headboard. Victor
was almost relieved to see Mulder asleep in the chair next to his bed. The older
agent's head was resting on the side of the mattress and Victor somehow felt
safer.
No longer sleepy, Victor sat there silently and watched him sleep. The other
man's eyelids were fluttering and Victor thought that Mulder was probably having
a bad dream too. It seemed to be the night for them. He propped up his pillow
underneath his neck and then watched Mulder closely, fascinated by the small
tremors and twitching that his body was making.
After Mulder had run out of tears, he clumsily reached for the small box of
Kleenex that sat on the single drawer night stand near Victor's bed. He blew his
nose as quietly as he could, even though he knew that Victor wouldn't be waking
up anytime soon. After tossing the semi-wet tissue across the room into the
garbage can, Mulder sighed. The last 24 hours had finally caught up with him, he
needed to sleep for awhile. So he laid his head down on the edge of the bed and
lightly held Victor's warm hand. Closing his eyes he let the his waking
conscious relax and his subconscious take over-
Mulder is lost in a green topiary maze and can hear someone crying out to
him.
"Help me!" The faint voice pleads.
Mulder is trying to follow the sound of the frightened voice, but the shrubbery
makes it difficult to get an accurate reading of the direction that it's coming
from.
After hearing another soulful, "Fox, help me! PLEASE!" Mulder stops to think,
finally he remembers some old advice about mazes: turn to your right always and
you will eventually find your way. So he does just that, but soon, Mulder thinks
that the rule must be wrong because it seems like every time he turns that way,
he hits a dead end. But the determined agent keeps on running,
searching...seeking. Finally when he is almost too exhausted to go on, he turns
a corner and finds the person that has been crying out for help.
It's Victor.
Suddenly, Mulder realizes that he is now standing in the very center of the
intricate maze, gazing at his lover who is laying motionless on a table with a
crisp white cotton sheet covering his whole body. Mulder slowly walks over to
the chest high table and sees that Victor has a blue tinge ringing his perfect
mouth. Afraid, he ripped back the sheet, revealing bruises circling his lover's
neck. The deep, blue-black color stood out stark against Victor's delicate, pale
flesh.
"Victor! No! I came for you! I found you." Mulder cried out, grief stricken.
Victor's lids fluttered open and green eyes looked up at Mulder. The look in
them sad and distant. "But you came too late. I'm already dead." Victor said
monotone. He sat up and extended his cold hand toward Mulder.
But before Mulder can grasp it, another hand intercepts and takes it instead.
Mulder blinks in incomprehension, and he wonders if the strange hand belongs to
an angel? But when he looks back to the table, Victor is gone already and only
the sheet that covered him remains. Picking up the sheet, Mulder hugged it
tightly to his chest, trying to soothe the ache in his heart. He dropped the
cotton shroud to the ground and began to spin around and around, looking for,
but seeing no sign of Victor.
He is really gone.
"Victor, where did you go?...VICTOR!" Mulder cries out as loud as he can, but
there's still no answer...
Mulder snapped his head up so quickly that he startled Victor, who had been
watching him the whole time. Trying to clear away the sleep from his eyes, he
rubbed his eyes and gazed at Victor as if he was seeing an apparition.
"Hi." Victor grinned down at the slightly dazed man and ruffled his hair
gently.
Surprised that Victor is even awake Mulder said, "Hi. Did I wake you?"
"No, I was up. I've had enough sleep. You called out my name, you know. Bad
dream?" A concept that Victor could definitely understand.
"Yeah, or a bit of one. " Mulder hoped that Victor wouldn't ask him about it,
because he really didn't feel like talking about it tonight. Maybe in the
morning.
"Mmm. Me too. Must be a night for dreams that go 'bump'" Victor answered
easily. Holding out his arms he said to his lover, "Come here. I missed you,
G-man."
Mulder wrapped his arms around his lover and they embraced. Victor finally
feeling truly safe for the first time since his ordeal had began.
Mulder breathed in Vic's scent deeply, secure in the knowledge that his death
had all been a dream only.
Part Nine: The Bumpy Road of Recovery
"I'm not an invalid, you know. I am capable of opening my door." Victor
complained to Mulder grumpily.
"I know, I know. Humor me and let me do it, okay?" Mulder replied blandly.
Victor reluctantly handed over the keys when Mulder put out his hand for
them. But the truth was his knuckles were still bruised and sore from his
fight with Jack, and his right hand was just as shaky as the left, so getting
the key into the lock of his apartment was a bit more difficult task than he
had anticipated. He was silently grateful that Mulder had seen his this, and
had offered to take over for him.
Victor's nose wrinkled at the smell inside his apartment as soon as he
entered. "Jesus Christ, what a mess. And it stinks in here too."
"It doesn't stink, Vic, it's just stale. Why don't you go lie down and
I'll clean up for you," Mulder offered. Even though he was not much of a
housekeeper himself, he figured that all the place needed was an open window,
some air freshener and a sink of soapy water for the dirty dishes.
Mulder looked around and spotted the source of the offending odor; the empty
tequila bottle. He dropped his small overnight bag by the door and started to
pick up.
Vic smiled as he watched Mulder go about tidying up the living room. He knew
that if it were Mulder's own apartment, the FBI agent would have simply thrown
everything into the kitchen sink and hoped the cockroaches would cart it all
away for him.
While smiling at his own thoughts Victor leaned over to pick up Mulder's bag
and then went off down the hall to his bedroom. Once there, Victor dropped the
bag on what he considered to be Mulder's side of the bed before flopping down
on his own side. In the silence of the bedroom Victor could hear Mulder
rattling around glasses along with opening and closing cupboards.
"Vic, where's your dish soap?" Mulder called out to Victor.
"It's under the kitchen sink, left side!" Victor yelled back. He was lying
flat on his back motionlessly with his arms stretched out and legs splayed
apart.
Suddenly, the dark memories of being bound in this position and all that
occurred afterwards entered Victor's head, making him feel nauseous. He
quickly drew his limbs in tightly to his sides as his whole body tensed with
anxiety.
A split second later, Vic got up and left the comfort of his own bed for the
bathroom, shutting the door behind him and locking it. Victor didn't feel so
good; he actually wanted to vomit. While taking deep breaths Victor turned on
the cold water and then grabbing the side of the sink, he lowered his head and
took a deep drink of the cold liquid directly from the tap.
Mulder had heard the bathroom's door closing and its lock clicking into place
from where he was. That's not a good sign.
He knew that Victor wasn't locking the door to keep him out, but to allow
himself the sense of security and control. Not to mention the fact that he
probably didn't want Mulder to see him in this vulnerable state again.
Thinking that knocking on the door to see if he was okay would probably not
go over too well, Mulder decided to leave Victor alone. Victor will come
out on his own when he's good and ready to.
After rinsing his face, Victor brought his eyes up to look at himself in the
mirror. And what he saw sickened him: black eyes, cuts and bruises everywhere.
To him, they were nothing but leftovers from an extremely painful ordeal.
Reminders of how inadequate and weak he had been, unable to even look after
himself.
Jack had been able to sneak up on him in the park because he wasn't paying
attention to what was going on around him, as was his usual practice. Instead
he had been gazing at the stars and thinking of Mulder.
And then, during his imprisonment by Jack, he had been useless in preventing
himself from being tied up, tortured and abused...
Stop it, Vic! Deal with it like a man. Just forget it ever happened. Now
get out there before Mulder thinks something's wrong.
Victor shook his head at his own image in the mirror. He would just force
himself to forget it ever happened; that's all there was to it. Tell the
shrinks what they wanted to hear. Tell everyone else what they needed to hear,
and then in a few months all these feelings of helplessness and insecurity will
have dissipated. If he can convince every one to get over it as he already has,
then hopefully everything will be okay. All he needed was a little more time to
deal with what happened, and to bury the experience as deep as it would go.
Then things will be fine. They had to be.
Taking another deep breath he ran his hands over his hair and tried to rub
out the dark circles under his eyes. A few minutes later he padded out of the
bathroom. Looking back and forth between the bedroom and the direction of the
living room. Victor didn't want to close his eyes only to see Jack again, so
taking another nap was out of the question even though he was very tired.
There would be time enough later to worry about how he was going to fall sleep
later, right now he wanted...needed other things. Things that only Fox Mulder
could provide.
Having decided, Victor switched directions and headed for the living room.
He walked quietly around the corner and snuck up behind Mulder, wrapping his
arms around his chest. He hugged the other man to him tightly and then brought
his arms up to hook his hands over Mulder's shoulders.
He nuzzled his face into Mulder's back and whispered huskily, "God, I missed
you. I'm glad you decided to stay a couple of days."
Mulder gave a lop-sided smile to the glass he was washing and replied,"I'm
glad I did too." He turned around and gathered Vic up into a tight embrace,
feeling the hard lump in Vic's jeans rubbing up against his own burgeoning
erection. Mulder looked into the man's eyes searchingly for any signs of
hesitation. When he saw none he leaned into Victor and began kissing him.
The kiss soon went from slow and easy to fast and furious, both tongues
darting in and out of one an others' mouth, vying for the warm space within.
Vic broke the kiss first and grabbing Mulder's hand, led him down the hall
to the bedroom. Mulder understood that there was more to the situation than
even Victor himself realized. Subconsciously Victor needed this to feel in
control again, in order to attempt to take back whatever it was he had lost to
Jack. At the same time, another part of him also knew that Victor just needed
to get laid to help him forget what had happened. Whatever the reasons were,
Mulder decided he was not adverse to helping Victor out either way.
Victor twirled Mulder around so that the man was facing him, then pulled him
into another deep kiss. He started undoing the button to Mulder's jeans and
roughly jerked down his zipper. Victor was anxious to get his lover completely
undressed. Before long, Mulder took over disrobing himself while Vic started
pulling at his own clothing, flinging the garments away un-concern as to where
they were landing.
As soon as Victor was fully unclothed, he dove on top of an equally
disrobed Mulder and plundered
the agent's mouth, running his tongue enthusiastically from Mulder's bottom lip
to his earlobe, pausing in between to bite down and leave several purple marks
on his neck and shoulder.
Mulder shut his eyes and delighted the sensations of Victor's ardent
foreplay.
Vic positioned himself between Mulder's legs and spread them farther apart.
Licking his way down to the firm flat abdomen beneath him, he pushed Mulder's
thighs up and used his tongue to lubricate the way. Victor allowed small
amounts of saliva to accumulate in his mouth before eagerly applying the warm
moisture to the tight opening by thrusting his tongue in and out of the
thrashing and moaning man.
Mulder couldn't help but growl out his pleasure over what Victor was doing to
him. The incredible waves of pleasure washing over him again and again. So
when Victor finally sank two fingers in him at once, he thought that he was
going to cum right then and there. He watched dazedly as Victor removed his
fingers from within him and carefully wiped the leaking fluid from the ends of
both of their cocks to rub it up and down his own hard cock for further
lubrication.
Then Victor looked Mulder straight in the eye and rasped, "Are you ready
for me?"
Mulder responded immediately by nodding his head and whispering urgently,
"Oh, yeah. Do me."
Needing no further encouragement, Vic grabbed Mulder's legs and pushed
them back and told him to keep them there. Then holding onto himself, he began
to guide his hardened organ into Mulder.
Victor eased himself in a slow but continuous motion, pushing into the
writhing man under him until he had sank himself in all the way. Pausing only
then to give Mulder a chance to catch his breath. When he saw that the other
man's eyes were closed, Victor demanded hoarsely, "Look at me."
Complying with Vic's wishes, Mulder opened his eyes and gazed into the big
green ones looming above him. He tried to block out the bruises that marred
Victor's neck and face. He avoided looking at the bite marks on Victor's
chest, marks that he hadn't made. Instead Mulder concentrated on staring
straight into Victor's eyes as he had been asked to do. With their gazes
transfixed on one another, Victor began to drive himself home, into the well
stretched ass of Fox Mulder.
Though he didn't intend for it to be so rough, Victor's thrusts became more
and more brutish as he neared his orgasm, but Mulder was not complaining.
When Mulder sensed that Vic's release was near; he used his own idle hand
to bring himself off. His own fast pumping motion made him cum first, and when
his tight hole closed down even tighter around Victor's cock, it sent the man
on top of him over the edge immediately and Victor came inside of his lover.
Collapsing on top of Mulder, Victor lay where he was, letting the last
vestiges of orgasmic bliss wash over him. After awhile, he reluctantly rolled
off of Mulder and reached for the box of tissue, pulling a few
out for Mulder and then some for himself. It was while he was wiping himself
off when that the guilt finally hit him.
What a shit I am! I didn't even think about jacking him off. I just left
it up to him to take care of
himself. He had been so focused in on his own needs that he had forgotten
that Mulder might have a few of his own.
"I'm sorry," Vic whispered sheepishly.
"Sorry for what?" Mulder asked.
"Sorry for being so selfish. I don't know what came over me. The last time
we had sex I recall that I was a little more giving. More reciprocating."
Victor felt ashamed of the way he had taken Mulder so roughly. Suddenly he
felt like he had forced himself on Mulder or something. So convinced, was he,
that he had hurt Mulder, Vic tried to get out of bed before Mulder kicked him
out.
"Where exactly are you going?" Mulder demanded. He knew exactly what Vic's
problem was so he pulled Vic back down to him and held on to him tight.
"I...I feel like you had no pleasure from that at all. I just thought
that..." Victor began, but his voice trailed off before he could finish his
sentence. He didn't really know what he wanted to say any ways.
Mulder hugged him tighter. "Well you thought wrong, I like strong sex
sometimes so stop worrying about it. I am however worried about you? You
know, Vic, I would never pressure you into telling me what happened when you
were kidnaped, but if you want to talk or need to talk, I'm here for you.
Always.î As if to convince Victor more Mulder added, ìPlus, I am psychologist,
remember? Anything you say I'll keep between us. I promise." Mulder would
never had told anyone what Vic said to him any ways, psychologist or not, but
he thought that if he brought up the confidentiality clause it might put Victor
more at ease.
Victor rolled away from Mulder and rested on his bruised back with his hands
together underneath his head. He could still feel the tender bump on the back
of his head. While staring at the ceiling, Victor cleared his throat and began
to talk. He wasn't planning to tell his partners about the things that had
happened, but if he couldn't tell his lover the truth, then who else was there?
Victor knew that it would be harder to convince everyone else around him that
he really was okay if he didn't at least tell one other person the truth.
Victor trusted Mulder implicitly with what he was going to say. "I..." he
began " ...I woke up wearing only my jeans and with my left ankle chained to a
wall..."
Mulder didn't quite know what to say to Victor. It was one thing to imagine
what had happened to Vic and another to actually know it by having the
real mental imagery to go along with the narrative. His mouth was dry and for
the first time in a long while Mulder was absolutely speechless. He had lain
still and listened in silence as Victor told him in an emotionless voice all
that had gone on between him and Jack. Mulder was glad Jack that had died, and
happier still that at least Victor had gotten the satisfaction of regaining
some self respect back by doing the job himself. But Mulder realized that Jack
had taken a part of Victor to the grave with him; and Victor would never get
that part of himself back. Ever. The psychological repercussions of what Vic
had been through would scar him for the rest of his days.
No wonder the sex had seemed so rough and frenzied. It made a lot more sense
to Mulder now, even though at first he thought he already understood why.
Victor's ability to maintain control over his emotions had amazed Mulder.
He had poured out every sordid detail to Mulder and though his eyes remained
glassy throughout, Vic never even allowed himself to shed one single tear. His
voice did crack and waver when he had gotten to the part about being forced to
give Jack a blowjob, but after a quick intake of breath he had been able to go
on as calm and even as he was before. Vic's icy, almost indifferent attitude
did not surprise Mulder, however. He recognized that this was the side of
lover that was probably seen by most people; and that he was one of the few
lucky enough to even see Vic's warm, funny and even romantic side. Knowing he
had been allowed into the inner nucleus that was the true Victor Mansfield made
Mulder feel privileged.
When Victor was finished recounting his horrible experience, Mulder reached
over and pulled Victor back against him. He held on to Victor tightly and
murmured into the soft brown crown of the other man's head, "I'm glad he's dead
Vic and thankful that you're still alive. I know you'll never truly forget what
happened, but someday I promise, you will get over it. It might take awhile,
but you will get over it."
Vic nodded his head but made no reply. Relieved that telling Mulder
everything had been the right thing to do. But if Mulder thought that he was
ever going to tell another living soul what really happened, then he was sorely
mistaken. Victor realized that Mulder would never betray his trust by telling
others what he told him tonight. He was confident that even if his partners
demanded the truth from Mulder, without Vic's permission, he still would not
tell. Victor felt no compulsion to let his partners know all the gory details;
in fact, he believed that the less they knew about the whole ordeal, the
better. The only thing that mattered was that Mulder knew and understood him.
Vic threw his arm over Mulder's chest and closed his eyes. He didn't want
to talk about it anymore, he only wanted to rest. His back was aching and so
was his head for that matter.
"Mmm, you mind if I fall asleep like this?" mumbled Vic, already half way
there."
Mulder rubbed the outer rim of Victor's ear gently; it was really the only
piece of skin available on Vic's body that did not have a bruise, bite mark or
welt. "No, you mind if I fall asleep with you?" he asked in an equally drowsy
voice.
Victor planted a kiss in the hollow of Mulder's chest. "No. This feels good.
Stay." Victor was immediately sound asleep after he said that.
Closing his eyes, Mulder followed suit. His last thoughts before he drifted
off to sleep were about how he wished he could make Victor's inner turmoil go
away, but knowing, with great regret, that ultimately only Victor could heal
himself.
Part Ten: Honesty is not always the best policy
As the late afternoon sun went down, its warm rays spilled through the open
windows and delicately
kissed the bare skin of the two men who were intertwined around each other.
They were sleeping peacefully in the big bed that dominated the small roomóboth
men were worn out, though each for different reasons.
Normally, Victor was a very light sleeper. It was especially important to
be one in his line of business one; could never be too sure who was going to
come through the door unannounced. But the aftermath of the last few days and
nights, combined with the effects of a sedative he had taken the night before
worked against him. His senses were dulled and he was pulled into a much needed
deep slumber.
Beside him, Mulder slept deeply as well, which was his usual practice
anyway.
LiAnne had been knocking on the front door to Vic's apartment for several
minutes already. When she received no answer after knocking several more times,
she became quite worried for her former lover's condition. She pulled out her
own personal key to Vic's apartment and unlocked the door quietly, taking care
to shut it as gently as she could behind her. LiAnne thought the apartment had
a eerie stillness about it; the heavy silence gave her the creeps. She knew
Victor should have been home. Normally, she would have seen Victor just flaked
out on the couch, resting while watching a hockey game. But unfortunately,
since nothing that had happened to Victor in the last 72 hours had been normal,
she wasn't completely surprised when she didn't find him on the couch.
LiAnne couldn't stop herself from looking around for traces of Mulder; but
when she didn't find anything that might have belonged to him, she just assumed
that he must have gone home already. It was then that LiAnne noticed Vic's
bedroom door was closed and guessed that he might still be sleeping. She
didn't want to disturb Victor, but she did want to see him so LiAnne thought
she'd just sneak a peek in on him to make sure he was okay. Figuring that she
could talk to him about her feelings for him and his
feelings for her later when he was up and about.
LiAnne was earnest about the way she felt about Victor, and she desperately
wanted him to take her proposal of their getting back together seriously. At
the same time, she was willing to hold things off for a little while more, or
at least until he was fully awake and alert.
LiAnne padded down the hall quietly as only a true thief could. Grasping the
bedroom's doorknob, she pushed the door open and then gasped loudly, shocked by
what she saw on the other side of the door. She released the doorknob
unconsciously and let the door swing all the way open. The sound of her loud
gasp and the door hitting the wall succeeded in forcing Victor out of his deep
sleep. He was up and out of bed so quickly that she didn't even see him grab
his gun. Before she knew it, he had somersaulted out of bed and landed on his
knees on the floor directly in front of her with his automatic aimed dead on
for her heart.
It took a couple of seconds for Victor to blink away the sleep that blurred
his vision and focus in on the trespasser. Comprehension of who the intruder
was finally registered on the armed man. "LiAnne? What the hell are you doing
here?!" Victor blurted out. Just as soon as those words were out of his mouth,
another thought hit him. Oh shit I'm naked!
Before he could ask LiAnne to leave the bedroom, she covered her mouth with
one hand and stammered, "Oh my god! Vic I'm sorry...I ...just..." Unable to
finish, she simply whirled around and ran back down the hall the way she had
come. Sighing heavily, Victor stood up and put his gun away. He
didn't hear sound of the front door slamming shut so he guessed that LiAnne was
probably waiting for him to come out and explain things to her.
He ran his hands through his hair, sighed and began hunting for his
underwear and the rest of his clothing. Why is she here in the first place?
How did she get in? Boy, does she ever have a lot of explaining to do to!
As Victor tugged on his jeans he looked over at Mulder, whom he thought was
still asleep, and discovered that man was in fact awake and lying on his side
with one hand propped up under his head, brown hair sticking out in every
direction while grinning up at Victor like the Cheshire cat.
Mulder had woken up the second Vic threw back the covers and popped out of
bed but he had decided to play it safe and pretend to be asleep until LiAnne
was out of the room. Whispering softly he asked Vic, "What's she doing here?
Should I leave?"
"No, you stay. I don't know what she's doing here but I plan to find out.
I'll be back after I talk to her. I think I'll take her to the coffee shop.
Want me to bring back anything while I'm out?" Vic whispered back. He had
finished dressing and was now running a comb through his short hair.
Mulder shook his head no while mumbling sleepily, "Mmm no thanks." He then
beckoned to Vic, enticing him back over to the bed. Mulder wrapped his arms
around Victor, who was leaning over
him, and kissed the man deeply before rolling over and mumbling, "See ya."
Victor slapped Mulder's perfectly rounded left butt cheek. It was a playful
gesture but the slap was still hard enough to leave a handprint. Vic pulled
the quilt up to Mulder's chin and tucked it underneath, saying a quiet
"Goodbye" before leaving the room and closing the door behind himself.
LiAnne was standing outside on Victor's veranda, face to the sun, trying to
figure out how she was going to say to Victor, what she had been wanting to say
to him for a few days now. Seeing him in bed
naked and wrapped around Mulder upset her more than she had thought it would.
Vic had looked so peaceful in the few seconds before he had woken up startled
and wide-eyed with momentary confusion.
Mac had already voiced his suspicions to her as to what Vic and Mulder had
been up to while the two of them had been stuck working in Greenland; but she
hadn't really, truly believed it until now.
Now what do I do?
She heard footsteps approaching from behind and turned around to gaze at
Victor. More determined than ever to get him away from the unnatural hold that
she believed Mulder had over him. But by the look on his face, she had a
strong feeling that she had her work cut out for her.
"Come on, let's go to Starbucks," Vic suggested in a voice that sounded a
lot calmer than he felt. LiAnne agreed and walked out of her former fiancée's
apartment towards the elevator.
Mulder had no sooner began to drift off to sleep again than the sound of
someone knocking at the front door had woken him up. He was tempted to just
ignore the annoying disturbance but then decided that too much sleep would only
work to keep him up all night, so he got up and threw on his jeans, not even
bothering to do up the buttons.
Answering the front door barefoot and shirtless, he was surprised to find
Mac standing on the other side holding a tray of coffee from, ironically
enough, Starbuck's. Mulder pulled the door open all the way and swung his arm
towards the living room, inviting Mac in without uttering a word. Mac complied
darting his eyes around and searching for Victor as soon as he was across the
threshold.
Mac was a bit thrown off at the sight of Mulder opening the door for him,
especially since he had been told by the Director that Mulder's flight home was
early this morning. He had wanted to see Vic alone so that they could talk;
waiting intentionally until close to dinner time to come over and visit just in
case Mulder decided to take later flight out. Seeing as the man was still here,
all that planning had been pointless now.
"Mulder, where's Vic?" Mac asked the heavily-lidded man before him. "You
look like you just woke up or something."
Mulder resisted the urge to answer "or something" and settled for instead,
"Vic's gone to the coffee shop with LiAnne. They needed to discuss uh...some
stuff." Mulder hedged.
Shrugging his shoulders, Mac handed Mulder one of the mocha's and then took
the other for himself. He sat down on the love seat with apparently no
intentions of leaving just yet.
I guess he's going to wait for Vic to come back Mulder assumed.
Actually, Mac had decided, on the spur of the moment, that perhaps he should
take the opportunity since they were alone to talk to Mulder, and find out just
exactly what his intentions towards Victor were.
Mulder dragged a kitchen chair across the rug and settled himself on it so
that the back of the chair was in front of him. He peeled the seal off of the
cup and took a sip. Smiling at Mac, he said pleasantly, "Mmm, that's good."
He waited a second before asking Mac, "Okay, so what's on your mind?"
He's straightforward; just like Vic "Well...I think it's my duty as
Vic's best friend, not to mention his partner, to ask you just what your
intentions are in regards to him." As soon as the words were out, Mac wished
that he could take them back; they did not come out right at all. 'What your
intentions are'...how lame is that?! I sound like a jealous lover! Shit.
Mac shook his head in order to clear it, hoping that would help him think
better so he could say what he really meant.
Mulder snorted and then replied with a bit of sarcasm, "What do you mean?
Like when are we getting married? Or if I get him pregnant will I support the
baby?" He laughed at the absurdity of Mac's question and his answers. Mulder
felt like a high school boy being quizzed by an over anxious father before
taking out his virgin daughter. Mulder realized that Mac was concerned for his
partner and no doubt Mac had a clue as to what was going on between them, but
he couldn't help but feel a little insulted at Mac's
opening question.
Mac tried breaking the ice again by smiling a small lopsided grin at the man
across from him. He made another try, "Okay, that didn't quite come out right.
It's not what I really meant, but..." he hesitated, finding it hard to
verbalize what he was thinking, "...what I mean is, what happens to Vic when
you go home? Are you a 'couple' or what? I would hate to see him get hurt by
having a long-distance relationship that didn't work out. He's been through a
lot lately and it's not just with this whole Jack thing either. There's other
stuff which you have no idea about. Bad stuff dealing with the time when he
used to be a cop. That and family problems."
Mac paused and took a sip from his cup, wrinkling his nose slightly at
discovering that his mocha had turned from piping hot to lukewarm in a matter
of minutes. He put the cup on the table and looked Mulder in the eyes. "Look,
I have a rough idea of what's been going on between the two of you, but I don't
know
just how serious things are. I do think though, that if you really cared about
Victor, you would do the right thing and let him go now, before he gets too
attached to you. I don't think he could take another personal crisis." Mac
was playing the old If you love something set it free angle and judging
by the grim look on Mulder's face, he figured it was working.
Mac stood up, leaving his Styrofoam cup behind on the table. "Listen, I
can't tell youó-or Victor for that matterówhat to do. But what I'm concerned
about is what if, say, you continue seeing Vic for now and then later on, you
end up meeting someone else in D.C. Some one who is a whole lot closer. So
then you decide to break it off with Vic. Don't you think that will hurt him
more in the long run, than if you were to call it quits now?"
Mac fell silent, letting the question remain unanswered. After a beat he
continued, "And Agent Mulder, trust me when I tell you that if you end up
hurting him more than you had to in the first place, you'll have me to deal
with."
Without waiting for Mulder to answer him, Mac walked to the front door. But
before leaving, he turned and called out pleasantly to the other man, "Have a
good flight home." He closed the door behind himself and stood in the hallway
for a moment. Mac was not proud of himself for planting the first
seeds of doubt into Mulder's mind, but he was sure that in the end, Victor
would be better off. He knew better than anybody about the difficulties of
long distance relationships; they never lasted. Not to mention the fact that
Mac felt Mulder was really only a temporary fling to Victor. He was certain
that eventually the distance alone between Vic and Mulder would be just too
much for them to overcome. And when Victor was ready; Mac was prepared to be
there to help him get over everything that had happened to him, including Fox
Mulder and their ill-fated, short lived romp in the sheets. Either way, Mac
would be there when Victor needed him, just like he had been there for him when
LiAnne had dumped him.
"You want to what?!" Victor, almost choked on his coffee at LiAnne's
announcement, he was stupefied. He couldn't believe that he had actually heard
her correctly.
LiAnne sighed heavily and repeated, "I think we should try to work stuff out
and get back together."
Seeing the strange look on Vic's face, LiAnne questioned in a frustrated tone,
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
Victor, who had been grimacing slightly at LiAnne, answered bluntly,
"Because, I don't believe you really want me back. I know you, LiAnne. You're
jealous, that's all."
LiAnne shook her head but before she could say anything else in her own
defense, Vic continued on in a harsher tone of voice than he had intended to,
"You broke up with me, remember? You were the one who said you
weren't ready for a full-time commitment. That maybe marriage isn't for
me, I believe were your exact words. You broke off our engagement just
because of some bad experience you had working with Mac on a case where you
guys had to pretend to be married. Do you wanna know how that made me feel?
I'll tell you howó-I was crushed and I felt rejected, that's how I felt."
Victor was more than a little surprised to find out how bitter he still was
over the whole experience even though a good amount of time had already passed.
"It took me a long time to get over it and an even longer time to figure out
just who I really was and what I wanted."
Victor took a sip of his mocha in an effort to calm himself before meeting
LiAnne's deep brown eyes. He continued on in a softer, more patient tone, "But
I finally did get over it and I finally got over you, LiAnne." He shook his
head sadly. "I know you well enough to see that the only reason you only want
me back is because you can't deal with the fact that I might be falling for
someone else. You did the same thing when you thought Ivy and I were getting
back together again. And then when Mac was going to get married to that arms
dealer..."
Victor ran the tip of his finger around the rim of his coffee mug. He
tilted his head sideways and shook it gently while smiling ruefully at his
former lover. "...you tried the same thing with him. But when it looked like
he might go back to you afterwards, you pulled away and came up with the same
excuses of why it wouldn't work between you two. I know that if we got back
together again you would only find a way to call it off when it came time to
talk marriage."
Victor looked into LiAnne's blank face then and realized that she didn't
know that he and Mac confided in each other on such issues frequently.
She was in fact quite surprised that Mac had told Vic so much.
"Mac and I talk LiAnne, we always have even when we weren't the best of
friends." Vic stopped there and swallowed up the last of the contents in his
coffee cup. His pause in speech gave LiAnne the entrance she was looking
for.
She shook her head vehemently and denied the truth of his words. "No!
That's not true, Vic, it's not the same anymore. I really want us to get back
together because I do care about you. You have to believe that!"
"Oh, I know you believe that, but truthfully? I don't think you
really want either one of us, LiAnne. You don't want us but at the same time
you don't want anyone else to have us either. Let's face it, you liked it when
Mac and I fought over you. It was a great boost to your ego. I could tell that
you were never really thrilled about our becoming friends, especially since we
stopped bickering over you and started doing stuff without you. I know you
hated it." Vic knew he was hurting LiAnne by saying all these things to her,
but he felt that it was time for him to get everything out in the open. Or
almost everything. He was hopeful that once they had dealt with this issue and
made sure it was closed, that then they would be able to put this conversation
and everything else from the past behind them and move on.
"LiAnne," Victor held her small hand between his two large ones, "...there
are things about myself that I am just discovering. Things that I want to do
and need to try. And none of these things involve you. They can't involve you
anymore.
"I'm sorry. You're my partner and a good friend and I will always care about
you and love you..." LiAnne's eyes had become glassy, and Vic's heart ached a
little as he watched a large tear spill out over the rim and slide down her
cheek, "...but I just don't love you in that way anymore."
Victor patted her hand gently and then got up and leaned over to press a
lingering kiss on her forehead. He whispered, "I'm sorry", before turning
around and leaving the coffee shop. He felt like the biggest jerk in the world
and was regretful all the way home. Victor wished it could have been different
for LiAnne's sake. That he could have said yes to her, and then pick up where
they had left off. But he couldn't lie to himself any longer. He also truly
believed that if he and LiAnne did get back together that it would hurt Mac
even more and that was something Victor didn't want to do. He knew that Mac
still had feelings for LiAnne even though she had trashed him as well. Victor's
rivalry with Mac had been exchanged for camaraderie. He felt good about where
he and Mac were at in their relationship. In Mac, he had found the
best friend that he never had beforeó-a friend to whom he could complain to or
just sit around with in a companionable silence.
It had taken a long time for him and Mac to click, but once their friendship
became based on other factors besides a former fiancée, it took off. Victor
didn't have a lot of friends. He intended on keeping the one he did have.
Victor unlocked the door to his apartment and walked inside, shutting and
locking it behind himself. He turned around and saw Mulder sitting on the love
seat with a beer in his hand. The look on Mulder's face warned Victor that
something was up. Something that wasn't good. Mulder raised his eyes and said
unsmiling and in an unemotional voice, "Vic, we need to talk."
Part Six
Flight or fight
he door knob rattled and then the lock click open. The bead of sweat
that had formed on the back of Victor's neck broke away and rolled slowly down
his naked spine. In just a few short seconds, Victor knew that he would be
fighting for his life, the element of surprise, his only advantage in the
situation. It seemed to take Jack forever to coming through the door; the
seconds ticked away like minutes. And during that dead time, Victor lay
perfectly still not daring to move even an inch. He forced himself to keep his
breathing even; resisting the impulse to take flight instead of fight.
